Crash (Brazen Bulls MC #1)(56)

He hadn’t seemed hurt. And he hadn’t asked again.

She’d not yet offered, either. But now, after six weeks together, she felt a pang seeing him sitting on the concrete step. He stayed near the street when he had to wait for her because Ollie got excited when Rad went up on the porch, and he didn’t understand why his buddy wasn’t coming in to play.

Rad had become her dog’s second-favorite person. Sometimes, it seemed like she was slipping into second place herself.

After the day she’d just finished, it would have been nice to have been able to go into her house and find Ollie and Rad hanging out together, waiting for her.

She waved and rode past, around the corner, pulling her bike up onto her driveway beside her truck. By the time she was parked and had her helmet off, Rad was halfway around the house.

She went to meet him, and he pulled her into his arms. The warm strength of his body was a panacea, and she sagged into him, letting him take the weight of the day from her.

From the house, a series of sharp barks broke into the moment, and Rad chuckled and let her go. Ollie stood at a dining room window, front paws on the sill, nose smearing the glass. When he saw he had their attention, he barked again.

“He needs to pee. It’s been almost twelve hours. He’s probably ready to burst.”

“I’ll take him for a walk, let him stretch his legs out, too.” Rad took her hand, and they walked to the front of the house.

She didn’t want to be alone again. “Let’s all go together.”

“You don’t want to put your feet up?”

“I want to be with you.”

After a probing look in her eyes, what Willa knew to be his way of checking to make sure she was okay, he gave her a nod and a smile.



oOo



They walked hand in hand around the neighborhood, slowly, as Ollie stopped to sniff and pee at every lamppost, mailbox, signpost, hydrant, and clump of grass. They didn’t talk much, except to the dog. Willa had too many feelings and thoughts colliding in her head to hold a conversation. She needed some quiet, and Rad seemed to understand that she did.

Ollie dropped a big load on the grassy sward between the street and the sidewalk, and while he sniffed his craftsmanship proudly, Rad opened the plastic bag they’d brought along for the purpose and crouched to pick up the pile.

Willa smiled at the sight of Rad picking up after her dog, pushing him gently out of the way, talking to him in an affectionate, teasing tone. Before she’d considered the pros and cons of asking the question that had risen to the top of her churning thoughts, the words were in the air.

“Do you want kids, Rad?”

Still crouching on the grass, in the act of tying the bag closed, Rad stopped and looked up at her.

“That’s a helluva question to ask right now, while I’m holdin’ a sack full of shit.” Then he laughed and shook his head. “Or maybe it’s the perfect time.”

“Sorry. I don’t know why I asked.”

He stood and faced her. “Don’t you?”

Unsure whether he was asking if she really didn’t know why she’d asked, or if she didn’t want kids, she picked one and said, “I guess I asked because…it feels like something we should agree on. Like we’re at the point that that matters.”

Once she said it, she realized that it was the exactly right answer. That was why she’d asked. It was right for another reason, too—she had obviously pleased Rad. He grinned widely.

“Are we, now?”

“Don’t be a butthead.” He hated to be called *, so she’d landed on butthead when he got annoying. It had practically become an endearment. “You know we are.”

He walked to the trashcan a few yards back and dropped the sack in. “Don’t you drop another load, buddy. Not till we’re home. We’re out of bags.” Coming back, he took her hand and got them walking again. Ollie trotted happily out in front, rump wiggling.

“I don’t got a yes or no answer,” he began as they turned the corner and started toward home. “Never wanted to be a father. Dahlia got pregnant once, but it wasn’t what either of us wanted, so she had an abortion—and that was what we both wanted. I figured that was the end of the question for me. If I didn’t want a kid I’d already made, then I didn’t want a kid, period. I never thought much about it again. Now, lookin’ back, I can’t even say that kid was mine.”

He’d told Willa a little about his marriage, and his ex-wife sounded like a piece of work.

A couple coming toward them, walking a little ragamuffin of a dog—something that looked like a mop, saw Rad and Willa and Ollie and froze in their tracks. The woman picked up her pet dust bunny, and the man pushed them behind him.

Ollie was a big dog—a hundred-twenty pounds of pure pit bull muscle—and he was trained to protect. In the absence of a threat, however, he was a goofy, slobbering love sponge. The couple was right to pick up their little dog, though. In Willa’s experience, little dogs got snarly and aggressive when they were frightened, and then Ollie might see threat and act before Willa could hold him.

He had noticed the little dog and was showing that he was ready to guard.

She stopped and moved Ollie to the grass. “Ollie, sit.” She waved her hand downward once. He sat. “Hold.” She moved her hand like she was pushing something down. He went still. She used ‘stay’ when she wanted him to stay while she walked away and ‘hold’ when she wanted him to stay at her side.